


A Hero and His Villain

by thedoctorwatcheshetalia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Porn, Superhero!AU, Supervillain!Arthur, USUK - Freeform, porrnn, shameless pron, superhero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5789803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedoctorwatcheshetalia/pseuds/thedoctorwatcheshetalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred is a superhero, but there are somethings not even powers can give you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hero and His Villain

Alfred didn’t sign up for this.

All the stories, movies, legends… they all made it sound like a breeze.

Kill the bad guy, get the babes. The entire town would love you forever. Cue the statues of honor, and babies lined up to be kissed on the forehead. You’d be given the key to the city, and maybe even a cape!

But he never expected all his dreams would end up so badly. So very badly. _So, so terribly._

The American visibly shuddered as he silently flew through the cold night air. Fingers curling into fists at his sides. He’d never thought he’d be so close to destroying the person that plagued his city… but end up succumbing to his inner feelings. He didn’t have time to think it through his heart. What mattered most were his people, and how they suffered. The choice shouldn’t be hard for him.

But it _was._

Now, he stood before the door, his fist almost coming up to knock at it before he remembered. The person who lived there wasn’t the man he once had been.

Alfred contemplated kicking it down, but it would cause unnecessary attention. Instead, he resorted to lock picking it like the dirty thieves he had to catch. Slowly, quietly, nimbly, for the good of his people… he opened the door and stepped into the apartment. The one that had been like a second home to him only a week ago.

That was before he found out. _Before he knew._

It was dark inside, pitch black. But Alfred knew exactly how to maneuver around it. He knew the apartment like the back of his hand. He climbed the stairs slowly, skipping the one that he knew made the loud creak, dodging the one with the protruding nail…

Everything was so familiar, yet foreign. The wallpaper had been changed at least twice since he last saw it. What had used to be a pastel blue, was now a peeling, dull green.

He made his way to the white glow behind the closed door. Alfred remembered the countless sleepovers, giggles, sobs, pizza slices, secrets, laughter…

He remembered everything that had happened behind that door.

But he wished he could forget. He wished his powers could relieve him of all the pain in his heart as it did to others. He wished he could just forget everything and go by the judgment of his head, but his heart always got in the way.

Which was really bad in this case.

Alfred pressed his ear to the door, listening in on anything that would help him change his mind. Anything that could prove that his information was wrong. Anything at all.

But all he heard was his own heartbeat in his ears. Beating like a deadly drum in his veins. His breathing became something of a pant as he just sat there, silence becoming unbearable. He could hear the annoying ticking of the clock in the hall downstairs. He’d always wanted to chuck that stupid thing out the window. It was ridiculously stressful.

Why wasn’t he doing anything? He was biding his time. Waiting, like a predator on the prowl. Waiting for the right moment to strike-

Or, he was just scared. Scared of having to hurt what he cared about. Scared of being given the choice to kill or be killed.

He never wanted this.

“Oh, Alfred? Love, how long are you going to be out there? I’m getting lonely in here.” Came the piercing, yet smooth voice, drifting through the door, startling the American. Alfred skipped a heartbeat as he slowly swung the door open.

And there he was.

If he saw Arthur Kirkland in any other circumstances, he’d give him his signature tackle hug. The two had been best friends for years, and when Alfred had gotten his powers, Arthur had been the first person he’d told.

But it had all gone wrong. They weren’t supposed to meet like this. It was far from Alfred’s many whimsical sketches of him and Arthur dressed in matching outfits, saving the world, fighting the leather-clad bad guys… But little did he know then, that Arthur would be the one in leather. And one day, they would end up on the battlefield. It was nearly inevitable.

_Only nearly._

“Alfred, I’m glad you could make it.” Arthur crooned, crooking a slender finger under the American’s chin. “I was afraid you’d stand me up.”

Alfred wasn’t surprised at the casualty of Arthur’s tone. He inwardly balked at how close those eyes were to his. Those big, green eyes that had prompted Alfred to befriend him in the first place, were now so amazingly disarming. Luring him from his very purpose of the visit.

Alfred’s Adam's apple bobbed nervously and he forced a smile, “How could I afford to ignore you, Arthur?” he said, trying to be confident but failing miserably. His pupils quivered at the color of those eyes. So alluring. Enchanting. Hypnotizing. Like a garden of forbidden fruit.

Arthur crinkled his slightly freckled nose, pinching the fabric of Alfred’s clothing. “And you’re still wearing this kitsch uniform? How tasteless you are, dear lad. Though, you’ve been that way from the start.”

His accent rolled off his tongue like honey, and Alfred wished he could say something back. Add to the banter. But sadly, he couldn’t. It would all be in vain.

Arthur had always liked the idea of a villain clad-in-black. Alfred supposed that’s why Arthur had been wearing the leather jacket that day. With the collar all turned up. It would look ridiculous on anyone else, but it worked on Arthur. _Everything worked on Arthur._

“S-says the dude with guy liner.” Alfred finally choked out. Arthur blinked a few times before smiling. This was not a warm smile, nor was it genuine. It was just for show. That, Alfred could tell.

“So, you can speak,” Arthur said, taking a few steps back. A cigarette was nestled between his fingers, and Arthur took a long drag, blowing rings of smoke into Alfred’s face. Alfred crinkled his nose and resisted the urge to cough. Instead, he cleared his throat.

He never knew that Arthur smoked.

“So, what brings you to my doorstep, hm? Why have you come to spy on me?”

As if Arthur had been smoking long enough- or maybe it was just for show- Arthur put out his cigarette, resulting in a quick spark of dying embers, and a smear of ash on the wall.

“Aren’t you at least going to act like you’re not guilty?” The question was laden with disbelief. Alfred didn’t want to believe it. Was Arthur admitting to his crime?

“Oh, but I am,” Arthur replied smoothly, coming back up to place a hand flat against Alfred’s chest, “So very guilty… Have you come to punish me?”

Alfred turned a flattering shade of red, “That’s what heroes do.”

Arthur grinned at that. This was the grin of a mad man. The grin on the face of a lion as it gazed down at a rabbit… if lions could grin, that is. “And you still think you are a hero, don’t you? Why don’t you just give up, Alfred?” Arthur had begun to run his hands up to Alfred’s shoulders, getting uncomfortably casual with the American. As if he were just a friend adjusting a Halloween costume. “As if a boy who could barely put two and two together could be a fair match against me.”

Alfred blinked, trembling a bit before regaining his words. “When did you become this, Arthur?”

Arthur had not been expecting that. Clearly. The Brit’s normally smug face twisted into a scowl and he bunched the fabric of Alfred’s clothing into his fist, tugging the tall American down to meet him eye to eye, “I never became this, Alfred. I simply discovered it.”

Alfred couldn’t help thinking it sounded so comic-book like. Like the words on the crumpled, colored paper he’d read under his blanket at night. The dirty old comic books under his flashlight, they all had confrontations such as these. _Villains and their monologues._

“Now if you weren’t such a daft _clot pole,_ you’d know that I’d never wanted to be just a sidekick. So you got the brawn, _fine!_ I don’t need brawn when I have brains, yes? I do believe you told me that yourself.” he spat, eyes searing into Alfred’s very being. “I can never be loved like you are. But you see, I don’t need love when I have fear. Love is so unstable, but fear? It’s forever.”

Alfred chuckled. A dry and humorless laugh. “You really think that?”

Arthur’s breaths seemed quite labored from the outburst, fist unclenching slowly and steadily, not to seem like Alfred had gained the upper hand. “Yes, Alfred. I do. Care to make me think otherwise?”

Alfred’s lashes fluttered and he felt his heart sink. _Had he been the reason Arthur became this?_ What happened to the idiot whose eyes glittered at the talk of fairies and unicorns? What happened to the boy who could talk his breath away about the universe… or life after death… or some other completely nerdy thing?

What happened to _his_ Arthur?

Alfred could barely recognize the man before him. He didn’t know this man.

Yet he kissed him.

Leaning down, he captured Arthur’s lips in a kiss. Something they hadn’t done in a long while. But this time, it wasn’t just an experiment, no. This time, it was a statement.

Arthur kissed back of course. Why wouldn’t he? The kiss was not enthusiastic, but rather slow, languid and sloppy. Lips clashing quite carelessly, lacking experience. Arthur’s arm found its way around Alfred’s neck, roping him in closer, deeper. Alfred could still taste the smoke on Arthur’s breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His own mind was put in a haze, he was too high up in the clouds to notice. Alfred looped his arm around Arthur’s waist, drawing him in, trying to envelope him in his warmth, and Arthur smirked into the kiss.

Alfred felt something hard press into his abdomen.

_But it wasn’t what it seemed._

Alfred glanced down and confirmed his fear. The barrel of a gun poking right at him. Right into him. Alfred tried not to look as terrified as he was as Arthur’s finger rested on the trigger. The blue-eyed blonde let his gaze flicker up to the coy look in Arthur’s eyes. Kiss-glistening lips curled up into a smile and Alfred suppressed a gasp.

“Why are you doing this?”

Arthur scoffed, backing away a bit as if deciding on pacing, but choosing not to. “You came here to kill me, Alfred. I might as well kill you before you get the chance.”

Alfred stammered, “I didn’t come here to hurt you, honest! I came to try to change your mind, Arthur. I care about you. Let me protect you.”

Arthur’s lined eyes widened and he spoke out in a loud exclamation, voice unnaturally stern.

“I don’t need your protection.”

But both of them knew the claim was false. There was never a better option for Arthur. He needed someone to help him out of the pit in his mind. His mother had so fondly put it as steering away from the path of flowers, as it always led to destruction. One would be lured in by those sweet, _sweet_ petals. Alfred needed to take Arthur through the path to righteousness. The path that went through brambles, but always led to victory.

_It was a much harsher comparison in reality._

“From the beginning, it has always been about you. I don’t want _you,_ Alfred. I’d rather you kill me instead of making me live forever in your shadow.”

Alfred didn’t respond. He bit his lip, his hand coming up to slowly grip Arthur’s wrist, wrenching away the gun as gently as he could, like he was pulling a toy from the jaws of a dog. Arthur inwardly fumed.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing!?”

It was too late for him to make a blind grab to his weapon. Arthur yelped as the gun was pressed against him instead. The tables had turned.

“Well, you were too busy monologuing, so I figured I’d take your gun and see what your face would look like,” Alfred said with a smirk, a hint of his childish mirth lurking in his voice. Arthur felt his own mouth quirk up.

“Idiot,” he muttered with a sigh, “Always pretending to hold the power. You could never shoot me, Alfred. But go ahead. Try.”

Alfred’s eyes widened.

“And you say I’ve changed? What about you? The boy who couldn’t see a foot ahead of him without his glasses… ”

“It’s called contacts.” Alfred snapped in reply, fingers trembling on the trigger. “And I _will_ hurt you, Arthur. If you don’t stop with the bad-guy act.”

“I’m wounded!” Arthur said, pressing his palm to his chest with a mock-insulted look on his face. “Do you really believe it’s an act, child?”

“I’m not a child.”

“But you sure kiss like one,” Arthur said with a hidden smile. Alfred narrowed his eyes before tugging Arthur into yet another kiss, pretending it was only because Arthur had insulted his skill.

_But really, he knew he couldn’t get enough._

Arthur chuckled as the American’s enthusiasm, gripping those broad shoulders and kissing back with a fire in him that he’d lacked in the kiss before. Arthur moaned in protest when Alfred pulled away.

“Now, _that’s_ what I call a kiss.” The man said, dazed as he slowly worked off his jacket, “So you’re really going to shoot me, eh?”

“N-no. Not if you give this up.”

“But I can’t!” Arthur said, tossing his jacket to the floor, “You may love being a hero, but know this, I love being a villain just as much.”

“Then I-”

“Oh shut up for a while, boy.” Arthur scowled, “Humor me. Can I have a last wish before I'm… er- _shot?”_

Alfred swallowed thickly. Arthur was making fun of him. He didn’t believe that Alfred had the guts to shoot.

“What?”

“Kiss me again.” Arthur breathed with a smirk, “And maybe we could go further than we’ve ever gone before?”

Alfred shook his head, gazing grimly at anything but Arthur. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“Oh come on!” Arthur said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Don’t you want me?”

“Don’t say that.” Alfred snapped, “That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is this?” Arthur said, raising his eyebrow. Alfred didn’t reply. He stared down at the trembling gun in his hand and wondered if he could actually pull the trigger. _Could he?_

Arthur caressed Alfred’s face in what could’ve be mistaken for just friendly, if you didn’t see the love masked in the emerald eyes. Arthur blinked it away and pressed his lips onto Alfred’s skin, kissing along his jaw, breathing in Alfred’s scent. “Don’t deny me, Alfred.” Arthur murmured, not minding his unresponsive lover. He pressed himself onto Alfred, onto the gun, embracing the possibility of his death, pushing himself into Alfred desperately. “You know you need it.”

_Arthur was his drug._

Alfred gripped Arthur’s wayward blonde hair, tugging him back to attack his exposed neck with his slightly chapped lips, the gun now confident in his closed fingers. Arthur smiled, working on unbuttoning his own shirt. “You can’t ignore me.”

 _So very true._ Alfred’s fingers searched out the warmth of Arthur’s skin, creeping under his shirt, brushing against the creamy expanse of milky white skin. Arthur soon tossed off the thing keeping his torso hidden, letting the white shirt hit the floor. Alfred traced Arthur’s slight hips with his fingers, eyes looking anywhere but into the striking green ones.

“Now let’s get you out of that stupid super suit.”

Alfred smirked, “Bet'cha you can’t find the zipper.”

Arthur scowled, “I could just tear it off. Looks cheap enough.”

Alfred rolled his eyes at that. Arthur wasn’t known for being impatient. But when it came to things like these…

Mind you, they didn’t go at it like bunnies all the time. In fact, before Alfred found out about his powers, he and Arthur were simply the best of friends, and Alfred was working up his inner man to ask Arthur out.

They’d kissed many times in the past, but none of them were real. Just experimentation. The only practice Alfred loved to do. He’d kiss Arthur until their lips were swollen… then they’d play video games. He never knew how it came to be, and they’d never really put a label on their relationship, but Alfred loved it anyway.

But then came the dreaded science fair, and Arthur just had to experiment with all those weird chemicals.

Alfred could still remember it, as clear as glass. When everything had gone wrong, but right. Sweet serendipity. Then bam! Alfred was his own Captain America. _Alfred became the experiment._

That was the climax of their story. After that point, they slowly drifted apart. Alfred was the hot guy on the team. Arthur was the dude in the audience, watching with his breath held in his lungs, cheering inwardly every time Alfred scored, because _yes,_ Arthur was still hung up on Alfred. Even though he was long forgotten in the American’s mind.

But time was cruel to Alfred. Soon, his powers became stronger, forcing him to comply to their needs. He was discovered. His hero identity known to the city. He was finally the hero he’d always wanted to be. But no one knew the _real_ Alfred.

Arthur’s arms wrapped around Alfred’s chest, reaching for the zipper in the back, and Alfred almost laughed watching the Brit’s face turn red with effort.

“Want me to get that?”

“Bloody _berk,”_ Arthur mumbled. Alfred unzipped his suit with ease, watching as Arthur’s nimble hands slid the material off of the tanned, muscular body. “I’m only doing this for your six-pack, you know.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows as he was tugged to the floor.

“You’re too _bloody_ attractive. Sometimes, I wonder how it happened!” Arthur mused, crawling onto Alfred’s lap. He gripped Alfred’s chin and kissed him until the man was breathless.

_Just like they used to._

It took a while for Alfred to start responding, but the whole thing was exceptionally weird for him. _How did he allow himself to be roped into this?_

Arthur knew what he was doing. And Alfred knew it too. Arthur was trying to seduce the hero. Just like all of the best villains did. And Alfred told himself he wasn’t going to fall for it.

But then Arthur began to wiggle out of his jeans, exposing his long, pale legs. The Brit smirked, tossing the pants- or as _he_ would put it, trousers- behind him. “Come on. Take off the rest of the suit and let’s go a few rounds.”

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Alfred said in mock disbelief, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-hearted, tired smile. Arthur chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he’d said it either. _Since when was he the needy one?_

“Then what do you want me to say?” Arthur asked, tilting his head. “Do you want me to be direct? _Fuck me.”_

Alfred’s eyes widened and he hoped to God he didn’t look as flustered as he was. “What?”

“Oh come on!” Arthur exclaimed, “No one is daft enough to not know what that means!”

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and Arthur sighed, “Give me your hand.”

Alfred tilted his head, feeling rather uncomfortable having his former friend perched on his lap. His grip on the gun tightened and he gasped as Arthur grabbed his other hand. “Wh-why?”

Arthur smirked an evil smirk… it was about as evil as they got. Gripping Alfred’s wrist, Arthur brought the American’s fingers to his lips, running his hot tongue over the digits.

Alfred was taken aback by the gesture, “Arthur, what the actual _fuck!?”_

Arthur’s lips closed around two of Alfred’s fingers, suckling them silently. Covering them in his saliva. And Alfred watched with wide blue eyes, not knowing if he was supposed to speak, or just watch. “A-Arthur?”

Arthur was enjoying himself way too much. He relished the debauched look on the otherwise innocent features… and knowing he was its cause? It was simply all too delicious.

He pulled away with a pop, pressing a kiss onto the tips of the fingers. Alfred stared at his glistening digits and let his gaze flicker up to Arthur’s, “W-”

“Put them in.” Arthur declared. Alfred’s eyes widened for the umpteenth time that day as Arthur crawled off his lap, pushing his gray boxers to his knees, exposing himself to the cool air in the room. Alfred could see that Arthur was half-aroused already. Nothing impressive, but it was a sight Alfred had never seen… and never really wanted to. Until now.

“You want me to-”

Arthur shifted his position, flipping onto his stomach and raising his hips, propping his knees up against the cold floor. “Yes. I want you to put them in.”

Alfred blinked, unresponsive to Arthur’s request. Instead, he just sat there, feeling every bit of inexperienced as he was. Not only had he never engaged in this type of thing before, but he also didn’t know if he _wanted_ to. He came here to treat Arthur like the villain he was, and did heroes _normally_ do these things as interrogation?

The sound of Arthur laughing softly cut through his train of thought, completely derailing the damn thing and tossing it down into reality.

“Oh that’s right, you’re still a virgin,” Arthur said, tossing him a look over his shoulder. “All the popularity and you still never got laid?”

Arthur sat up, back toward the American, and Alfred could see the bumps of Arthur’s spine against the Briton’s pale skin.

“I was saving up for someone special.” Alfred blurted out. Arthur stilled,

“I’m flattered.”

Arthur turned around and Alfred could see just how flattered he was. Arthur’s erection stood tall and proud, a flushed, dusky pink.

He quickly crawled back into Alfred’s lap and captured his lips once again, kissing him fiercely. “Be comfortable around me, Alfred,” he murmured, caressing the side of his face. Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist reluctantly, shivering as Arthur moaned into the kiss.

Alfred’s lips travelled down to Arthur’s neck and Arthur let out a quivering breath, his shoulder hitching rhythmically as he pleasured himself with his other hand. Alfred gripped Arthur’s waist and ran his tongue back up, slipping it past Arthur’s parted lips, engaging in a battle for dominance with Arthur’s own slick muscle.

Arthur nipped at Alred’s lower lip and smirked, “Well if you won’t put it in, _I_ will.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, but he didn’t make a sound. Not one sound of protest, not one sound against it, though everything in him told him he should. He remained silent as he was pushed down onto his back. Arthur’s small, lithe form crawled over him, pinning him down in a way Alfred found mildly humorous. _But mostly terrifying._

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Alfred asked, cocking an eyebrow. Arthur narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, he looked like the kid Alfred had fallen in love with. But then it was gone.

“Getting my fill,” Arthur growled, hand creeping between Alfred’s legs. “All my efforts and you’re not even hard!”

Alfred slapped Arthur’s hand away, trying so very hard to stay on topic. “Well, you’re not giving me anything worthwhile.”

Arthur’s lips curled into a smile, “I think you’re just shy. Or maybe you’re scared? Maybe you don’t even know what to do.”

Alfred’s eyes narrowed and his hand clenched into a fist, “You know I have a gun, right?”

“Do you?”

Alfred frowned a little and glanced down at his hand. “I do.”

And there it was. In his fist. Where it had been the whole time. He shook it to make his point.

“It’s empty,” Arthur said with a wicked grin. Alfred gaped and Arthur laughed a low, villainous laugh. Not quite a _mwa-ha-ha_ but another laugh that was equally menacing. Or… at least, as menacing as he could look, half naked and fully aroused. “You should see the look on your face! As if I’d let _you_ have the upper hand!”

He crawled between Alfred’s legs, tugging the blue boxers down as far as he could, “After all, what kind of villain would I be if I was too easy?”

Arthur grabbed the gun and tossed it behind him, suddenly putting on a commanding expression. “Get up.”

Alfred scrambled to his feet bemusedly, not knowing quite what was expected of him. His painfully flaccid member was fully exposed to whatever naughty deeds Arthur had in mind for him.

The Brit licked his lips, “Are you ready?”

“Never have been,” Alfred said nervously. Arthur smiled a cheshire cat grin.

“Good.”

He ran the flat of his tongue up the underside of Alfred’s cock, getting up on his knees to be able to reach. Time seemed to still for Alfred, but Arthur kept going. Lapping experimentally at Alfred’s member, skillful fingers pumping Alfred’s length as lips stretched around the head, sucking gently before bobbing his head to take in more. Arthur’s hot tongue swirled around Alfred’s hardening cock and the American weaved his fingers into Arthur’s hair, pulling him closer, coaxing him further, soundlessly.

Alfred bit his lip as Arthur began to deep-throat him. Taking him as far as he could go. Finally using that mouth for something good rather than chastising, chiding, and other _snappy_ things Arthur loved to do.

Alfred’s knees trembled and he moaned lightly, much to Arthur’s content. The Brit began to hum, and through Alfred’s pleasured haze, he caught the tune of “God Save the Queen” and rolled his eyes.

Arthur hollowed his cheeks, and Alfred saw stars. His eyes rolling up to look at the ceiling as he moaned and pulled Arthur closer. But sadly, the Brit pulled away, running his tongue back up the hot length before looking Alfred straight in the eyes,

“You’re so big, Alfred.” he commented, watching Alfred turn a shade of dark red. “Not quite the boy I took you for.”

Alfred was extremely flustered, lashes fluttering as he tried to think of something to say in response.

 _No, no, no, Arthur! Why did you stop?_ The words never made it past his mouth. Arthur began to kiss his way up to Alfred’s abdomen, gripping Alfred’s waist and looking up at him with lust-clouded eyes.

“Are you going to fuck me now?”

_Don’t mind if I do._

Alfred was led to the bed, kicking off his boxers completely and watching as Arthur laid on the mattress, completely on his back.

Alfred climbed over him. Well, was _dragged_ over him, was a better way to put it. Arthur gripped Alfred’s shoulders, tugging him down into what Alfred thought was going to be a kiss. But instead, the Brit leveled his lips with Alfred’s ear.

_“If you really want to defeat me, fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk.”_

Alfred gulped and Arthur began to mouth at his throat, sucking his adams apple and eliciting a quiet noise from the American.

Arthur wrapped his legs around Alfred’s waist, “Just put it in, I’m already prepared.”

Alfred shuddered, “Was that what you were doing waiting for me on the other side of the door?”

Arthur’s eyes sparkled, “He speaks again.”

Alfred frowned, running his hands up Arthur’s thighs and pressing a kiss on the junction of Arthur’s neck. The Brit took the action as an invitation to shut up. Grinning, Arthur rocked his hips against Alfred’s, running his hands over the expanse of Alfred’s tanned back. The American sighed contently and lapped at Arthur’s collar bone, making marks that stood out against the porcelain skin like deliberate art.

Arthur let out a shaky breath as Alfred lifted himself off his body, hands searching around the drawer until he found the small bottle of lubricant.

“You still keep this here,” Alfred said, chuckling.

“I haven’t used it since.” Was Arthur’s reply.

Pouring the content of the liquid across his fingers, Alfred rubbed his hands before lathering his girth, a hiss escaping his lips as his hand came in contact with his engorged cock. After a few half-hearted pumps, he angled their hips. And with one fluid push, Alfred was inside. Flushed, dusky cockhead pushing through the tight inner walls.

Alfred was inside Arthur’s warm heat, long legs trembling at the compression. Blue eyes flickered over Arthur’s expression and found it to be strangely calm. The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked up and he chuckled.

“What, don’t know what to do next?” Arthur teased, tilting his head back and panting softly, “Should’ve known you didn’t have it in you.”

Alfred ground his teeth. Arthur knew exactly what not to say to him. He had a degree in agitating, which made for a perfect movie villain. Not _particularly_ Disney, but as sexy as they got.

Arthur shot him a smirk, “Are you going to move or did I get my hopes up for nothing?”

Alfred was taken aback by Arthur’s shameless bluntness… but then again, who was he not to oblige?

* * *

Arthur’s nails raked at the bedsheets Alfred fucked him from behind. Loud, very-british-accented moans surrounded them as Arthur cried out, clutching at whatever he could find. Whatever was there to hold.

The American found it easier that way, to pretend Arthur was someone else. Someone he could fuck into next Tuesday, and not even care. The green-eyed man had been forced onto his stomach, hips propped up by his knees, Alfred’s large hands gripping him like a vice.

Green eyes were misty, a bit of that damp, salty water ran down Arthur’s sharp cheekbones and the Brit half-laughed, half-moaned, voice being muffled by Alfred’s hand roughly pushing his face into the pillow, the lack of air in Arthur’s lungs strangely thrilling. Tilting his face to the side, Arthur moaned as a particularly hard thrust sent him reeling, noises pushing past his lips, lewd and _loud_ into the humid air.

Alfred threw his head back and moaned softly, beads of perspiration dotting his hairline as his hips thrust and jerked into Arthur almost _animalistically,_ aching for more of that hot, _tight_ space, not caring if he was pounding mercilessly. Alfred figured that the villain would like it rough, and so far, he wasn’t wrong.

The American loomed over the smaller man, movements becoming more erratic, and Arthur could recognize the soft sounds Alfred was making above him, soft, pleasured puffs of air escalating into louder moans and harder thrusts, hitting Arthur’s prostate with every move, sending Arthur deeper and deeper, but not deep enough. Alfred’s noises became more desperate and Arthur hissed in response,

“If you know what’s good for you, you better be nowhere _near_ coming.”

Alfred didn’t reply, he just trailed kisses up Arthur’s spine, biting down hard on the Brit’s porcelain shoulder and jerking in one last time before shooting his seed deep inside Arthur with a loud, high-pitched, slightly _embarrassing_ noise that darkened his cheeks. Blonde lashes fluttered shut and he collapsed upon the man beneath him, burying his nose in the crook of Arthur’s neck, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the skin there.

“Alfred _Jones!”_ Arthur shrieked, heating up underneath him and flailing around a bit, attempting to shove the larger male off him, “For the hero you say you are, you’re _quite_ the selfish man!”

Alfred chuckled, rolling Arthur over and running his tongue over the other man’s lips, nipping and sucking at them leisurely.

 _“Oi!_ Don’t kiss me, you _twat!”_ Arthur yelped, gripping the American’s face and pushing it away, hiding his eyes behind his palms, “Get off.”

For a moment, it seemed like Alfred had listened. There was no more weight resting on Arthur, not even a breath ghosting over his skin.

A pair of warm hands gripped Arthur’s thighs, spreading his legs apart before a hot mouth took in Arthur’s aching length. The Englishman moaned, hands coming to grip Alfred’s head as he half-heartedly thrust up into the hot, wet feeling.

_“A-Alfred!”_

The American’s skillful tongue swirled around the oversensitive skin and Arthur’s breath hitched, legs trembling. “A-Al-Ah!”

And he was undone, Alfred’s mouth filling with his bitter semen.

 _“Swallow.”_ Arthur ordered, panting, and the bespectacled blonde hesitantly swallowed the thick fluid, sky blue eyes fluttering up to look at the expression on Arthur’s flushed face.

Arthur looked down at him with a loopy, hazy grin on his face. “What would the city do if they saw their hero like this?”

Saying so, and attempting to emphasize his question, Arthur pulled Alfred on top of him, rewarding his ministrations with a lazy, content kiss. Alfred moaned into the kiss, stroking Arthur’s cheekbone almost lovingly, looping his arm around Arthur’s waist and pulling him closer against him.

“Don’t get too comfortable, love,” Arthur said with a dark chuckle, crooking a finger under Alfred’s chin, “I’ve got a little challenge for you first.”

Another kiss. This one making Alfred shudder for some unknown reason.

“Remember the Elementary school I went to? The one with all the bullies? They used to terrorize me so much, remember? Then I moved here- and found you…”

Alfred’s lips quirked up at that. Arthur’s long, thin fingers combed through Alfred’s caramel hair, touching their foreheads together lightly, and Alfred felt a flicker of hope spark in his heart. _He could live like this, pulling the darkness out of his Arthur, making him whole again-_

“That Elementary school is going to go _boom_ at precisely seven in the morning, taking thousands of children with it.” Arthur said simply, pressing a kiss onto Alfred’s lips with a smirk, “So… _shoo._ You know I like a good show.”

Alfred’s eyes slowly widened as Arthur’s words sunk in. The hero wasn’t expecting this… well, if he said that, he’d be lying. Arthur wasn’t the _perkiest_ pea in the pod, but there certainly was hope in Alfred’s heart that the villain would get better.

The American hopped out of bed, snatching his costume off the floor and slipping into it as hastily as he could with the pleasure still riding in his veins. Trembling as he zipped the suit on, he threw Arthur one last glance-

“And if you come back successful, I might just _indulge_ you.” Arthur murmured, blowing the other man a kiss.

And then Alfred was out the window, soaring through the air in a hurried frenzy. He had no idea where the school was, but he was motivated by the thought of being the savior of thousands of kids and parents-

_And maybe a little indulging for him as well._


End file.
